Before I Was A Glitch
by KisaLangonian
Summary: Yet another story of how Glitch came to be Glitch. Before he was part of Hi-Def, he was Jordan Chan, stuck in the background and too afraid to step up. MoGlitch, Bromance. In later chapters there will be Glitch whump- being in a dance crew isn't always easy, you see. Mo helps Glitch realize his dream. Has all characters eventually, Glitch-centric. Rated T for swears. Betaless.
1. Jordan Chan

"Oi! Jordan! You coming tonight to watch Flash4 and Lu$h have it out? I can't wait to watch Lil' T **crush** Angel. How can he call himself a man in an outfit like that?" An energetic voice called as the loud pounding of feet indicated someone was approaching quickly. Jordon Chan turned, slowing his pace to allow his friend to catch up "They're dancing on Flash4 turf by the mini-golf course."

"I don't know Mason, I don't think my dad really likes the whole idea of dance crews. He just about killed me when I asked him the first time." The pale-skinned boy replied, swinging his messenger bag back and forth through the air.

"Aw, come on Jordy. Just stick it to him, man! No big deal, they're not exactly secretive matches. Everyone knows all the names of the street crews: Riptide, Flash4wrd, Lu$h, The Glitterati, and Ninja Crew. It's not like we're going out to get jumped during a discrete dance match in a dark alleyway."

"Mason you don't know my dad. If I told him I wanted to be a dancer he would probably kill me. Not kidding. My sister went out and joined the Glitterati and my dad literally disowned her." The black-haired boy huffed, straightening his dark blue collared shirt uncomfortably, tucking it in one part of his black pants, only to have it poke out of another. He frowned.

"Pleeeeease?" Mason begged, clasping his hands comically together and widening his dark-blue eyes. Jordan sighed in response, shuffling his dress shoes on the dirty pavement.

"Fine, I'll ask him. But—" He began.

"Yeah!" Mason crowed, doing a little victory dance in a circle around the Asian boy.

"**But**, don't get your hopes up." The shorter boy laughed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading in the direction of the subway. "It's a bazillion to one chance."

"Right. Well on the off-chance that he says yes, I'll meet you by the windmill hole at six, yeah? Later!" Mason shouted in return, waving profusely before turning and running in the other direction.

Jordan chuckled, hopping down the subway steps two or three at a time. He swiped his subway card across the scanner and emerged onto the plat form: and onto his own little slice of heaven. In this city, yes there were the top dance crews like Riptide and Lu$h, but there were some dancers who couldn't get into the crews, or didn't want to. The subway was where these wayward performers gathered.

Jordan turned in the direction of a large crowd that had gathered, _Suckers Just Try _blasted from a nearby boom-box, rattling the ground with each drop of the bass. Jordan shoved his way through the crowd, wincing as energetic spectators ruffled his hair and shoved his around. In the center of the mob a girl in baggy camo pants and a black tube-top spun wildly on her head before quickly flipping backwards, spinning through the air to land with her feet spread, arms flared above her head.

Jordan scoffed quietly, "Off on the half-step. You're supposed to twist your right ankle so you don't stumble." He recited quietly, remembering what he'd learned through watching and listening to the big crews discuss moves.

"Oh? What'cha say shorty? Since when are you the authority on dance? You wanna step up 'an do it better?" A tall boy crowed, stepping up beside Jordan.

Apparently Jordan hadn't been so quiet. "Um, I don't—" He began.

"Aw B.Z., don't be too hard on him, looks like the poor spaz got lost on his way to boarding school." The girl in the camo crowed. "Unless you really are a dancer in disguise? You got the build, wanna prove your worth small stuff?" He said, leaning into the black-haired boy's face

The short boy ducked his head, "Sorry, no. I guess I didn't think anyone would hear me I'm just…" he shifted his feet. "Going now." He disappeared into the crowd, face burning. He could hear the teasing cat-calls as the left the crowd behind and slipped into another mob.

* * *

Jordan slammed his front door shut, casting his bag to the side roughly, causing his cat –Meiko- to mewl in surprise and dash out of the way.

"Jordan?" A voice called, heavy Korean accent butchering the name.

"What?" The tired boy replied in effortless Korean. Not really in the mood to be yelled at by his father, or even see the strict man's face Jordan started up the stairs.

"Where have you been. You are to return right home after school."

"Sorry… the subway was real crowded." He called down the stairs before slamming his door shut. Carefully locking his doors, Jordan un-tucked his shirt and kicked off his tight shoes in disgust. He flopped down on the bed, relaxing into the embrace of the duvet. His over-sized headphones enveloped his ears in a tech-beat-saturated sound cloud and Jordan was lost to the world.

* * *

Jordan glanced at his desk clock, the green numbers flashed 5:30 and the pale boy grimaced- it was almost time for him to meet Mason at the golf-course. Figuring he'd have to make amends with his dad if he even wanted to have a chance at watching the dance-off he stomped back downstairs.

"Father?" He spoke respectfully and slowly in Korean. "I have a request I must make of you." Kang-Dae Chan - Jordan's father - slowly put his book down and raised his eyebrow, eyes cold. "I was wondering if I might, go out… with friends, at night…. tonight."

"Tuck in your shirt," The older man instructed in a biting tone. Jordan immediately obeyed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Where are you going? The library? Arcade? I expect not to watch a dance competition? Your grades have been dropping below B's, and watching those groups put their bodies on show for kicks is no way to help your mind grow."

Jordan clenched his fist. "Father—"

"I do hope you don't intend to follow in your sister's footsteps and become a dancer. There is no future in such things."

"Shut UP dad! You don't know ANYTHING about dancing. I doubt you know the difference between popping and locking and wouldn't know a good moonwalk in Neil Armstrong slapped you in the face with a sequined glove!" Jordan shouted in English, knowing his father would only understand half of it. Kang-Dae seemed to get the point though, and his face colored with rage.

"Are you implying that you plan to become some kind of dirty dancer?" The old man hissed. "Go to your room, don't emerge until you plan to revoke your prior statement."

Jordan stormed up the stairs and slammed the door, snapping the lock shut like it was his worst enemy. He stood seething for a few minutes before steeling his nerves and stripping down to his boxers and undershirt. Spinning on his heels he strode to his dresser, sliding open the bottom drawer and tossing piles of ties and socks onto the floor. Smiling softly to himself he pulled out a pile of clothes that were different from the rest.

He quickly donned a Technicolor t-shirt that he had spent all of his allowance on; the tight-fitting tee was like a visual slap to the face with its bright pinks, greens, yellows and reds. Hopping from one foot to another on the cold floor he pulled on a pair of garish yellow socks, then a pair of red-purple sneakers before realizing he wasn't wearing any pants. He cursed, then pulled off the sneakers and slipped on a pair of baggy black pants that had too many pockets to count. Pulling back on the shoes, Jordan looked at his reflection appreciatively. He turned in a small circle before clipping a pair of neon green fishnet suspenders to hang low around his knees. Tentatively, he picked up the last item in the drawer: bright green hair jell, the same green as the suspenders. Before he could lose his nerve he slicked his fingers in the goo and painted a bright stripe on the middle-left side of his head. . Grinning in appreciation, Jordan dropped the jell back in the drawer and looked in the mirror once more.

'_Now I look like I could be a member of a crew,'_ he thought proudly, slipping towards his second story window. He slid it open, sitting on the sill for a moment before spotting something on top of his dresser. Elbow pads and a pair of fingerless gloves, he used them when he skateboarded. Jordan chuckled before he pulled a pad on one elbow, and a glove on the opposite hand. He pushed off from the window and landed on the ground in a crouch. He didn't even flinch as his shoes made contact with the ground, practiced dancer muscles used to the shock of hitting the ground at high speeds.

Jordan Chan didn't spare a glance back at his house as he took off running.


	2. Just like that, he was Glitch

**Oh my gosh! Not meaning to sound annoying but thank you, thank you, thank you! I've only posted one chapter and I got 3 reviews (wow, that sounded really sad)!**

**I can't receive/respond to Pm until about three hours from now, so sorry if you PM'd me recently.**

**Also, please don't be mad if Glitch is OOC at the moment, this is because I think he slowly developed his current way of talking/acting through his experiences with Mo and dance crews in general. I have a whole lot planned in advance, and soon he will become the Glitch we all know and love ;) But for right now he tends to avoid dancing in front of people.**

**Also, this takes place more in DC2 than DC3. So there is no Dr. Tan and Oblio/ futuristic stuff.**

**Glitch: A sudden, usually temporary malfunction or irregularity of equipment**

* * *

Just as promised, Mason stood by the windmill course, shifting from foot to foot and scanning the crowd with a bored expression, he obviously didn't recognize his friend as he approached.

"Mase!" Jordan called, waving wildly.

"Jordan…?" The taller boy replied incredulously. "Hey. What… what happened to you?" He gestured at the brightly outfitted boy in confusion. Mason himself was wearing a T-Shirt with a chibi of Lil' T giving a peace sign and non-descript jeans.

"You like it?" Jordan laughed, spinning in a circle with his arms spread.

"What the fuck Jordan. Like, what the actual fuck. Where did the collared shirts and slacks run off to?"

"I happen to like this better." And he did. Despite the things his father made him wear, Jordan probably had the weirdest fashion sense ever. He called the style 'Dancer Functional' as it was the perfect mixture of crew-looking clothes and comfortable material perfect for dancing. (Not that he'd worn the clothing anywhere other than his room before.)

"Uh-huh?" Mason looked skeptical for a moment before letting it go. "Right, let's just go, they're starting."

Jordan smiled and followed close behind his friend to watch the sassy dancers. He stared in awe as Taye and Lil' T twerked in perfect unison to _You're A Jerk. _Angel and Miss Aubrey stood on the sidelines with their crew- looks of horror and disgust on their faces.

"Lil' T! I love you~!" Mason crowed from somewhere in front of Jordan, who was blocked by a taller teen. Cursing his shortness, the Korean boy wiggled through the crowd until he came across a giant plaster dinosaur with light bulbs trailing down its back behind, it was pretty tall, and would probably give a good view of the dancing from its head. He heaved himself onto the red-painted tail of the sculpture and shimmed up its mossy back. From his new vantage point he could see Angel and Aubrey making wide sweeping motions with their hands and flipping their hair to the sound of _Everytime We Touch_.

Jordan squinted, as he usually did when he was focusing, and watched the pair's footwork, trying to learn something new. This style of dance didn't require as much skill as was needed for break dancing, but it was still impressive. Jordan allowed himself a happy sigh as he spent the next 45 minutes analyzing each hip shake and hand movement.

"Alright, y'all, time to choose. Show your love for Lu$h Crew!" The neutral party commentator called to the crowd at the end of the street battle. A loud roar erupted from the crowd, along with many calls of 'Angel, I love you!' mixed in with the calls of appreciation. "Alright, alright. Now, show your love for Flash4wrd!"

This time, Jordan added his voice to the calls- Lu$h was amazing, but the soulful and happy dances that the Flash4wrd pair preformed seemed so much more real, more like the kind of dancing that Jordan loved. The black-haired boy grinned when he heard a familiar "LIL' T I LOVE YOU!" Mixed in with the cheers.

"I guess we have our winners!" The commentator called once the roars had quieted down, gesturing enthusiastically to Taye and Lil' T. The announcement only caused another round of vicious applause and cheers, and the poor guy huffed, passing the mic to Taye and shaking his head.

"A'right! Quiet yo selves down! Flash4wrd's recruitin' new dancers. If ya'll can prove yo worth, that is. Anyone wanna shake yo stuff?" The black girl called, silencing the crowd with her commanding voice. Nearly everyone in the crowds hands went up, around 40 people. "We got all night, so we gon go one at a time. A'right, step up ya'll!" Taye shouted, pointing at the first person with their hand up, jutting her hip out. Beside her, Lil' T was nodding saucily and saying stuff like 'Yeah, gurl' and 'Bring it!'

Jordan laughed as the volunteer stepped up; her body was obviously not made for dancing as it was long and awkward- as were her dance moves. Taye wasted no time in politely, if not rather sassily- turning her down.

Meanwhile, Jordan attempted to leap down from the head of the dinosaur into the bushes below and leave without someone noticing him. He was scared if he tried to shimmy down the sculptures back the way he had come it would take too long- someone would notice him for sure, jumping down was faster. If someone saw him they might think he was dancer. His outfit had seemed like a good idea in his room, but now people might ask him to dance, and he could dance, he just didn't like— Jordan was so bust worrying and feeling angry with himself that he miscalculated his drop and landed right between Lil' T and Faye, who jumped in shock.

"Daym boy, if you wanted to try out you should have said somethin'!" Taye shook her head, but seemed pleased that someone who showed some promise was trying out.

"No I'm not—" The short boy stammered, straightening up nervously from his crouch. "I mean I don't…."

"You tryin' ta say ya' don't dance? Yeah right, boy. I see your outfit and yo dancer muscles. Honey, don't try to hide from me. Strut yo stuff, Asian!"

"Hey!" A familiar and none-too-welcome voice called. "That's the kid from earlier today, right B.Z.? Taye, don't _let him_ dance, he's not a B-Boy, he's a wanna-be boy. This afternoon he called me out on my dancing, and then ran away." Jordan grimaced as the camo-wearing girl from earlier that day stepped out from the crowd. "You should have seen him in his collared shirt and sensible shoes!"

Jordan's face colored bright red and he quickly darted into the crowd, ignoring Mason as he passed him and trying to block out the laughing and insults he heard behind him.

"What the fuck was up with him?"

"Little retard"

"Jesus Christ, he doesn't know when to leave something be, does he."

"Ignore him, he's just a glitch in the system.'

"Look at him run!"

"Asians, man. He no speake Engrish prease and thrank you." Laughs erupted rather loudly after that particularly juvenile insult and Jordan just ran faster.

"Run, bitch run!"

And he did.

* * *

**Alright, that's the end of chapter two! Sorry if it was short, only about 1,200 words. I just thought it was a good place to stop. I'm already working on the next chapter, in which he meets Mo.**

**Sorry if people don't like Mason, but Jordan needed someone to be his friend and I couldn't use one of the canon characters because they haven't met yet!**

**As I'm writing this story, the pre-Glitch Jordan keeps on evolving. He actually had a lot of good ideas, but be freezes in front of people. He's more of a background character and is intimidated easily. That's why he becomes the intimidating person we all know. He wanted to be the tough guy.**

**AUGH. I have so many ideas. How do I put them all in here?**

**I'll let you know Glitch doesn't just join Hi-Def and become happy. Even after he's accepted in the dance world, he faces bullies in school. And we can't forget his evil dad!**

**MWA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA :D**

**Love ya!**


	3. Failing Grade

**Okay, so this chapter took too damn long to write. Like, literally I was writing for hours. Because there's a big dance scene and it is near impossible to describe people dancing, let alone free-style break dancing. So in the future I'll probably just say that they danced and to what song. Unless someone wants to be my PM buddy and just write me descriptions of people break dancing- which I doubt. So, yeah, the song in this is called "Don't Sweat The Technique" by Eric B. & Rakim. **

**The weird stuff like top rock and down rock are dance moves that I just looked up. It doesn't really have to make sense, all you really have to do is imagine Mo and Jordan dancing, don't think too hard XP.**

**I really wanted to post this today, so I am so sorry for any spelling mistakes. I will almost definitely come back through and edit it another day. I love all of you and thanks for all the reviews!**

**EDIT: Omg, I am soooooooo incredibly sorry. Apparently I stole some writing from ricecooker2000. Like, word for word so it totally looks like I totally just copied and pasted... I swear to god it was not on purpose. I think I read it recently when I was looking for inspiration on writing about dancing and my mind just copied. Oh jeez I'm super sorry I'll change it ASAP. Not on purpose and again I'm sorry. You should totes check out ricecooker2000 's work because it's amazing.**

**And shout out to TotallyrandomXD my beautiful reviewer/guardian angel. Even though I have NO IDEA who you are :P**

**Sorry again! -Kisa**

* * *

Jordan didn't stop running until he reached the basketball courts on the West side of the city. He stood there for a long time, breathing heavily and bracing his hands on his knees.

"Damnit, damnit..." He repeated the curse like a mantra. Needless to say, Jordan was pissed. With himself as well as everyone else. He knew he could've danced, shut their mouths and might've earned himself a spot on Flash4wrd. Instead he had embarrassed himself in from of nearly a hundred people. And world would travel fast. There was now almost no chance of him ever becoming part of a crew.

Heaving himself upright, he reached into his pocket, digging around for his MP3 player. Frowning when he didn't discover said device he checked a different pocket, then another. Frantically he searched each of the many pockets. It had to be in the other one... NO the other other one... wait!

He made a noise like a dying animal that was a mixture between a groan and a squeak, accepting the fact that he truly hadn't bright his precious MP3 with him. He couldn't dance without music. But it wasn't worth the risk to try and return home. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Jordan mumbled quietly under his breath.

"Suckers try to battle but they get their head burst." The lyrics to the only song he knew- seeing as it was one of the songs he heard dancers break to in the subway most often: Suckers Just Try. Not that the lyrics were hard, as there was only really one line of lyrics.

"Suckers try to battle but they get their heads burst!" He repeated over and over, the irresistible beat thumping in his head. This time he moved his arms and legs to the lyrics robotically, bouncing his head. He repeated the words a few more times before he fell silent without noticing. He was lost to the beat in his head.

Faster, faster. Breaking, flipping. Sliding and locking. Freeze, back-step, chest out.

The music was pounding through his entire body, nothing else mattered, Jordan Chan was happy. So, when someone stepped out of the shadows, the short teen didn't even pause. Until, that is, a voice broke into his thoughts.

"What's good kid? I mean, aside from those moves of yours." His voice was low and smooth, and had a hint of a laugh in it. "There a reason you're dancin' here all by yo self when you should be sharin' those sweet moves with erryone?"

Jordan spun wildly, stumbling over his feet and nearly headbutting the much taller boy in the chest.

"S-sorry?" He stuttered, glancing around to make sure the boy wasn't talking to someone else. The chocolate-skinned boy carried on without acknowledging the younger.

"I Mo. Blood-type O positive... 'cause how sure am I that I'm gonna whip erryone's butt on the dance floor? Oh, positive. BAM!" He illustrated his point by moon-walking backwards and spinning on his heels. "An' you? You got a name Nano?"

"I'm, I mean, I am..." He began, before being interrupted by 'Mo' once again.

"Remember, I don' know you, so if they're eva a time to be someone new, it's right now Nano."

Jordan paused to consider the taller boy's words, then thought back to the things that people had called at his receding back after the Flash4wrd fiasco.

_'Ignore him, he's just a glitch in the system.'_

_ 'Just a glitch in the system.'_

_ 'Glitch in the system.'_

"Glitch." It was out of his mouth before the Asian boy could stop it. He shifted from foot to foot, then, with more confidence. "I'm Glitch."

Mo grinned impossibly wide. Jordan really took a look at the teen then. He was way taller than the Korean boy, with a hat pulled low over his eyes and a furry brown hoodie over that.

"I'm looking ta start a crew, cuz honestly, the crews this city has now ain't cuttin it. Seein' you dancing, I was thinkin' maybe you might wanna join up." Mo was rattling on like they were best friends or something, Jordan thought indignantly.

But they weren't. Mason was his best friend. This tall kid who's creeping on him on a basketball court certainly wasn't his friend. Jordan shook his head rapidly, pulling Mo out of his rant.

"Sumthin' wrong, Lil' G?" And now with the nicknames? Jordan didn't know this kid at all, and here he was, actually considering his offer?

"I havta'- have to, go actually. So maybe you should ask... someone else... 'Mo'."

Jordan spun without another word and ran.

* * *

The next morning, Jordan left for school early. His father - usually an early riser - hadn't awoken yet and the short boy wanted to avoid a confrontation. When he had returned home the night before, his father hadn't been up, though Jordan knew he had noticed his son wasn't in his room. The Korean boy was hoping to avoid his father as long as possible to give the older man time to cool off. He knew he would get seriously screamed at for leaving last night no matter what, but he could try to put it off as long as possible.

And speaking of last night brought him back to the strange teen who had talked to him on the basketball courts. Mo. He was still a little creeped out by how forward the guy had been. Jordan had originally thought the guy was some kind of stalker or druggie, but considering how open he was, Jordan was beginning to doubt that theory. He seemed too confident and clean to be an addict...

Jordan began to slow his walking pace now that he was further away from his house. He glanced briefly at the entrance to the subway, deciding whether or not he wanted to ride the tube and risk meeting up with Camo girl and 'B.Z.'. The black-haired boy looked at his watch. 6:30. He had a half-hour until the school even opened the doors and walking would burn more time.

He steered around the stairs and continued on his way. The warm June playfully swirled trash around the teen's feet and tousled his hair which, by the way, he had carefully washed so no trace of the green remained. Pigeons scattered as he approached their flocks, flinging feathers in every direction. As the feathers cleared, he heard it. A low voice with a city accent calling his name, if you could call it that.

"GLITCH! AY! GLITCH!" It was the Mo guy, Jordan was sure of it. But he didn't want to turn around, maybe it was a misunderstanding. His last shreds of feeble hope disappeared as a large hand clapped down on his thin shoulder.

"Ay! Nano, I was callin' yo name for ages. You deaf o' what? You jus' ran off last night and I couldn' find ya." Jordan carefully peeled the boy's fingers off his shoulder and spun on his heels.

"Hey, um Mo. I think it's really cool and all that you seem to have an obsession with me, but I don't really know who you are and I really have to get to school. So you need to just leave me alone, because I really have to go-" Although Jordan didn't outright say 'fuck off creep' it was pretty well implied and Mo seemed to catch on pretty quick.

"A'ight, a'right. If ya really want be to leave you alone, ya just gotta do dis one thin' for me, kay Nano? Just… don't dance."

Out of nowhere, Mo pulled out a beat-up old boom box, with various colorful stickers layering over each other. He quickly plugged in his MP3 player and scrolled through the songs, selecting one with ease. A loud beat started blasting from the speakers.

_Don't sweat the technique._

"Uh… are we not bothering people?" Jordan questioned nervously.

Mo held a hand over his ear. "What? Can't hear ya kid!"

_Don't sweat the technique._

"Is this even allowed?" He shouted louder. Mo laughed and replied, "Nah! People like ta watch us. We e'en get some cash sometimes!" The dark-skinned boy grinned wider at Jordan's expression.

Without any more warning, Mo started dancing.

_Let's trace the hints and check the file. Let see who bit to detect the style._

The tall guy wasted no time on the warm up, making sharp movements to stretch his muscles. After a few minutes of this he immediately dropped down onto all fours. Obviously he had danced this routine many times.

_I flip the script so they can't get foul. At least not now, it'll take a while._

Top rock turned into down rock.

_I change the pace to complete the beat. I drop the bass,'till mc's get weak._

Down rock. Air baby freeze. Then he popped up and pointed to Jordan, signalling the kids turn.

_For every word they trace, it's a scar they keep... 'Cause when I speak, they freak._

Jordan hesitated only for a fraction of a second.

_To sweat the technique_

He popped, locked, and then dropped to the beat. Hips, shoulder elbow and repeat.

_I made my debut in '86. Wit a melody and a president's mix. And now I stay on target and refuse to miss._

Jordan didn't even notice a gathering crowd. He was way too focused on the footwork. Sixstep, helicopter, three step then swipe.

_And I still make hits wit' beats, parties, clubs, in the cars and jeeps._

One, two, three. And he hurled into the air with a back flip. The crowd went crazy, obviously a 14-year-old dancing like that wasn't something they saw everyday, even on the streets of this city.

_My underground sound vibrates the streets. MC's wanna beef then I play for keeps._

The tall African American literally jumped in. Flipping into the center of the crowd beside Jordan.

Jordan couldn't even hear the music anymore, the roar in his ears was too loud. The pounding of his heart swallowing everything.

His feet moved his entire body. First in a circle, then gaining speed. He froze on both hands, staying there for a good 15 seconds, waiting for the right moment in the song.

_Don't Sweat the Technique _

The Korean teen dropped from the freeze to a windmill. The crowd roared.

Jordan can't see what kind of crazy moves Mo was doing, but he can bet they're even more amazing that his own. Flipping backwards, Jordan moonwalked a few feet backwards before stopping and posing, arms splayed robotically. He sensed Mo doing almost the exact same thing nearby, ending in the same position behind him.

The crowd exploded in cheers and applause.

As Jordan slowly tried to get over what he had just done in front of all those people, Mo approached him and offered a handshake.

"Eyo, ya got some sick moves," Mo said kindly. "I'm lucky ya failed your on'y test kid. So, guess what. Welcome to the crew. It's only you and me, but you kno' it's gon be swag-tastic."

The short teen looked up in surprise. Mo definitely had serious skill, and yet he didn't gloat. And he had invited him to make a crew, like Jordan hadn't just practically called him a stalker not ten minutes before.

A strange tightness formed in his throat. The teen nodded stiffly, unable to find the right words that moment.

Mo smiled. "Welcome to da crew, Glitch."

* * *

**Ta-daa! I worked so hard so please comment! It was almost 2,000 words that time as opposed to the usual 1,200. I apologize for any mistakes. I didn't have Jordan just join Mo right away because I mean honestly, Jordan is a smart kid. He's not going to just say 'okay' to some random guy. **

**So in the next chapter we meet up with Jordan's dad again.**

**Also Jordan and Mo brainstorm names next chapter, so if you want any silly ones to be included on the list (obviously it won't be forever because they end up w/ the name Hi-Def) then PM me or put it in your review!**

**Also I have another important question. From now on, would you like me to refer to him as Jordan (Ex: Jordan shouted, Jordan said.) or Glitch? (Glitch shouted, Glitch said.)?**

**If no one says anything I'll just call him Jordan.**

**I love all of you!**


	4. Scattered

**ALRIGHT MY LOVLIES! I AM NOT DEAD! I apoligize for not updating, but I am currently chest-deep in work.**

**Spanish project, LA project, science project and test... /cries/**

**But, I did this chapter to hold you peeps over. It's pretty short and rather depressing but deal with it.**

**So I'm putting this at the top this time so everyone can see because I only got two answers before: SHOULD I REFER TO HIM AS GLITCH OR JORDAN? LAST CHANCE TO MAKE A CHOICE OR ITS JORDAN FOREVER. I KNOW YOU GUYS HAVE PREFERENCES.**

**Also, next chapter will be a series of texts between Mo and Glitch. They will end up living together, but NO SLASH.**

**That's it, please enjoy.**

* * *

Jordan arrived home happier than he'd been in a long time, yet at the same time feeling equally miserable. The spring in his step was due to the fact that he'd spent the day practising dance with Mo. Apparently, Jordan had an excellent body for dance- lithe and well-muscled. No doubt from all the time the Korean boy had spent practicing moves by himself. The only things he needed to work on were confidence, and something called 'expressing yourself'. He was too "By tha' book, yo", according to Mo. He needed to "E'press his inna dancer, not be sum cheap imitate". Jordan found himself copying Mo's street accent in his head. Mocking the slightly caring, slightly teacher-y voice he always used, before switching into a more comical imitation. _Yo, G, you ain't got ma SWAAAG. Yo coudn't copy this with a copier!_ He boy mimicked in his head, making a sad attempt at the sassy insults his mentor always used. _Takin' suckers down in battles… jus' like clothes off a laundry line!_

The teens face fell when he stepped into the small house's family room and remembered why he'd been feeling miserable as he looked at his father face. The school had no doubt called his father and informed him that his son hadn't arrived, as he had spent the entire day with Mo, not just met up with him after it let out. Jordan could only imagine how his father would react when the older found out that he had spent that time dancing with some kid he met yesterday. The Korean teen was still a little light-headed over that as well. He had gone from quiet-student-Jordan to member-of-a-crew Glitch abruptly and none too gently. He wasn't brave enough to do crew challenges yet-that much was clear, but even preforming on the street for a small crowd like this morning terrified him. The only reason he had been able to do it was because he hadn't seen the crowd until the end and then he'd frozen. Which, thinking back, made him seem so lame—

"Jordan." His father broke him out of his self-loathing bubble with a jolt. Jordan cringed at the sound of his name on his father's lips. The man set down his ever-present novel as he leveled his gaze at his son. There was no mercy in his gaze. Jordan swallowed thickly, a weight settling in his stomach; burrowing in his intestines and twisting them viciously.

"Father." The boy replied in Korean, wincing as his voice cracked helplessly.

"I received a call from your school informing me you hadn't arrived. They assumed you were sick and called here to confirm."

"Father I—"

"I had to conceal the truth. I lied to the school system so you could skip an important day of learning. The only reason I did it was to avoid trouble. It would have marked your record to have 'skipped school' on it. Especially after that show you put on last night with the disappearing act…. I am disgusted." Jordan felt his lip quiver childishly, his father's harsh choice of words ringing in his ears.

_**Disgusted**_

"I'm really sorry dad. I was just…" He trailed off, unsure of where the excuse was going.

"Yes?" His father snapped impatiently. Jordan flinched away, afraid his father would do something drastic. His father had never struck him physically in all his life, only with insults, which sometimes hurt even more. But if the older man found out about his dancing, Jordan feared he really might lose all self control.

It was certainly a double-edged sword. Lie to his dad and risk being found out or tell his dad the truth and hope for the best. Honestly, lying might buy him some time, but land him in deeper shit in the long run.

"Dad, I was just. I mean I was. I was out dancing, with this guy-Mo." Jordan stuttered out. "He's not a creep or anything, he's a great dancer." He stumbled over his words, cringing when he realized Mo being a 'great dancer' wasn't going to help his case. This was probably his sister all over again to his father. An outrage. A disgrace

To his surprise, the older man barely reacted at all. Maybe his eyes turned a little icier, a spark in them that whispered I knew it. But he didn't seem angry, he didn't yell. Thankful he didn't lash out. For a moment Jordan though his father was going to accept his dancing. Say he didn't like it, but would allow it. As long as Jordan didn't talk about it. He though there would be no punishment.

For one ecstatic moment, Jordan Chan thought he would be able to dance.

"I assumed this. I am glad I am correct." The man stood stiffly, lifting a cardboard box from its place beside the armchair. It was about the size of a shoebox, and Jordan felt his heart-rate increase. Maybe it was the dance shoes he had wanted? Extra-grip for use on the streets? His father placed the box in his sons shaking hands and walked past him without another word. Jordan waited until he heard his father's bedroom door close before he dared pull the top off. He was almost laughing with happiness, no punishment, he wasn't even grounded. He could dance, he could finally-

When Jordan saw what was inside, the little cardboard container slipped from his grasp and onto the floor, scattering its contents everywhere.

Spilling the shards of his precious MP3 and his only dancing outfit onto the floor.

But it felt more like it was his soul, scattered across the wooden slats.


End file.
